June 24 Talyllyn Ho!
On Sunday, after a storm-tossed night, I made a cautious way through the shrieking gale from Aberdaron to Tywyn. Quite why I picked Twyn, which is a rather wind-blown, sand-blasted seaside town with nothing in particular to recommend it (a bit like Seaton, but without the charm), for an overnight stop, I cannot now remember. The choice of “Hendy”, out of the dozen or so certificated locations in the Caravan Club directory, was a matter of pure chance. I did wonder vaguely whether “Mrs. A Lloyd Jones” might possibly be connected with John Lloyd Jones, whom I have known and respected for many years as one of the most intelligent and forward-thinking leaders of Welsh farming, but given that there must
be thousands of Lloyd Jones in the Principality, I swiftly discounted it.
On Sunday, after a storm-tossed night, I made a cautious way through the shrieking gale from Aberdaron to Tywyn. Quite why I picked Twyn, which is a rather wind-blown, sand-blasted seaside town with nothing in particular to recommend it (a bit like Seaton, but without the charm), for an overnight stop, I cannot now remember. The choice of “Hendy”, out of the dozen or so certificated locations in the Caravan Club directory, was a matter of pure chance. I did wonder vaguely whether “Mrs. A Lloyd Jones” might possibly be connected with John Lloyd Jones, whom I have known and respected for many years as one of the most intelligent and forward-thinking leaders of Welsh farming, but given that there must
be thousands of Lloyd Jones in the Principality, I swiftly discounted it. Carmen at Hendy
But it was that Lloyd Jones, sure enough. I arrived shortly after Sunday lunchtime and was immediately sat down and invited to share a bottle of good red wine with my hosts. We talked of mutual NFU friends, exchanged gossip and discovered a shared frustration with what is happening to the various schemes that have been developed to enable farmers to produce countryside as well as food. John has been Chairman for many years of CCW, the Welsh conservation agency which produced Tyr Gofal, hailed by the former Agriculture Commissioner, Franz Fischler, as “the most successful agri-environment scheme in the Europe”. Tyr Gofal has been taken over and ruined by the Welsh Assembly Government, in much the same way as the equally successful ESA scheme is being butchered by Defra to make way for its half-baked “Environmental Stewardship” in England.
In both cases, 20 years of painstaking progress, involving millions of pounds of taxpayers’ money, is likely to be chucked away because the conservation bureaucrats who presently call the tune in Defra cannot see beyond the end of their noses. You need pragmatism to find the right balance between food production and conservation. Natural England doesn’t appear to know the meaning of the word.
As with many another Welsh farm, tourism is very much the mainstay of Hendy’s income. It involves some handsome self-catering cottages and farmhouse b and b as well as the campsite, and appeared to be very much Ann Lloyd Jones’ creation and responsibility; a business which
she combines with being a sturdily independent member of Gwynedd county council.
Ann apart, Hendy’s greatest asset is the Talylln railway, which runs so close to the farm that it even as its own halt. It has the distinction of being the first line in Britain to be taken over and run by volunteers; it was the inspiration for W.S.Awdry’s Thomas the Tank Engine; and its appeal is universal. I shared a carriage on the Monday morning with an American family (who were also staying at Hendy) who had travelled all the way from Chicago for the thrill of a trip on the Talyllyn. The little trains chug and clank their way up the valley through some of the most magnificent scenery you’ll see anywhere (the Dolgoch Falls are a particular delight) and you can go up and down the line all day, getting off and on wherever you fancy, and all for just £12.
But it was that Lloyd Jones, sure enough. I arrived shortly after Sunday lunchtime and was immediately sat down and invited to share a bottle of good red wine with my hosts. We talked of mutual NFU friends, exchanged gossip and discovered a shared frustration with what is happening to the various schemes that have been developed to enable farmers to produce countryside as well as food. John has been Chairman for many years of CCW, the Welsh conservation agency which produced Tyr Gofal, hailed by the former Agriculture Commissioner, Franz Fischler, as “the most successful agri-environment scheme in the Europe”. Tyr Gofal has been taken over and ruined by the Welsh Assembly Government, in much the same way as the equally successful ESA scheme is being butchered by Defra to make way for its half-baked “Environmental Stewardship” in England.
In both cases, 20 years of painstaking progress, involving millions of pounds of taxpayers’ money, is likely to be chucked away because the conservation bureaucrats who presently call the tune in Defra cannot see beyond the end of their noses. You need pragmatism to find the right balance between food production and conservation. Natural England doesn’t appear to know the meaning of the word.
As with many another Welsh farm, tourism is very much the mainstay of Hendy’s income. It involves some handsome self-catering cottages and farmhouse b and b as well as the campsite, and appeared to be very much Ann Lloyd Jones’ creation and responsibility; a business which
she combines with being a sturdily independent member of Gwynedd county council.Ann apart, Hendy’s greatest asset is the Talylln railway, which runs so close to the farm that it even as its own halt. It has the distinction of being the first line in Britain to be taken over and run by volunteers; it was the inspiration for W.S.Awdry’s Thomas the Tank Engine; and its appeal is universal. I shared a carriage on the Monday morning with an American family (who were also staying at Hendy) who had travelled all the way from Chicago for the thrill of a trip on the Talyllyn. The little trains chug and clank their way up the valley through some of the most magnificent scenery you’ll see anywhere (the Dolgoch Falls are a particular delight) and you can go up and down the line all day, getting off and on wherever you fancy, and all for just £12.
Dolgoth gorge
In the afternoon, I drove to Borth, another undistinguished seaside town, strung out along Cardigan Bay a few miles north of Aberystwyth and, like Tywyn, beset on either side by mobile homes. Borth has one saving grace, and that is its golf course: an old-fashioned out and back links which I have hugely enjoyed playing ever since I first visited, some 16 years ago. I found a decent campsite nearby and by this stage it had become the most beautiful sunny afternoon. I didn’t play very well, but the setting more than made up for that. As I hooked and three-putted my way back along the shore, the whole of Cardigan Bay was laid out before me, from the Lleyn in the North, to Cardigan Island in the south.
The only thing missing was some decent surf. That has been the one big disappointment of the trip so far. When I was in Scotland and for most of the time in Ireland, the wind was from the east. Then, when it did switch to the South West, it was so violent, it blew out any swell. I’m now at Whitesands Bay, a mile of so from St. David’s, and I’ve got high surfing hopes for tomorrow.
In the afternoon, I drove to Borth, another undistinguished seaside town, strung out along Cardigan Bay a few miles north of Aberystwyth and, like Tywyn, beset on either side by mobile homes. Borth has one saving grace, and that is its golf course: an old-fashioned out and back links which I have hugely enjoyed playing ever since I first visited, some 16 years ago. I found a decent campsite nearby and by this stage it had become the most beautiful sunny afternoon. I didn’t play very well, but the setting more than made up for that. As I hooked and three-putted my way back along the shore, the whole of Cardigan Bay was laid out before me, from the Lleyn in the North, to Cardigan Island in the south.
The only thing missing was some decent surf. That has been the one big disappointment of the trip so far. When I was in Scotland and for most of the time in Ireland, the wind was from the east. Then, when it did switch to the South West, it was so violent, it blew out any swell. I’m now at Whitesands Bay, a mile of so from St. David’s, and I’ve got high surfing hopes for tomorrow.
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